


Bonfire

by Applefallarchive



Category: Fall Out Boy
Genre: Anal Sex, First Kiss, First Time, Fluff, Getting Together, Loss of Virginity, M/M, PWP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-20
Updated: 2017-05-20
Packaged: 2018-11-02 23:39:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10955136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Applefallarchive/pseuds/Applefallarchive
Summary: Winter in Chicago is brutal, he knows, but this one seems even worse.





	Bonfire

**Author's Note:**

> To clarify, Patrick is eighteen here and of age. 
> 
> Still working on stuff, have a little pwp in the meantime.

He's shivering in his bed, cold even underneath all the blankets he's got. Winter in Chicago is brutal, he knows, but this one seems even worse.

Patrick drifts, tired and wishing for sleep. His mind is a constant swirl of thoughts, keeping him awake, even when he's standing at the brink of unconsciousness. It's frustrating.

Even more so when his door bell rings. It makes him jolt, and he curses whoever is at his door. It's approaching midnight, far too late for anyone sane to be knocking on his door.

That clues Patrick in on who it is. Someone who isn't entirely sane and does stupid things like this - like waking Patrick up when he's trying to sleep. 

"Go away, Pete." Patrick croaks when he reaches the door, blanket bundled around him. His apartment doesn't have a heater and for the millionth time since December began, he curses the fact that he chose this place to live in.

He can hear Pete laugh from the other side of the door. "Let me in." He says, voice excited and muffled lightly. Patrick worries his lip - he's unable to say no to Pete. It's something that's made the past two years of his life crazier, agreeing to whatever Pete asked if him.

Patrick fumbles with the lock and pulls it open. Pete's bundled in a winter jacket and beanie and he's never looked so warm. Patrick wants that warmth in his life.

"You look like you're about to turn into a popsicle." Pete tells him, amusement arising from his voice. He's hot even bundled in clothing, and Patrick can't contain the pink blush that spreads across his cheeks. It always seems to bloom when Pete talks to him.

Patrick rolls his eyes. "I don't have a heater here, asshole. And it's midnight. What are you doing here?" He asks, not bothering with keeping the annoyance out of his tone. The nerve of Pete to come knocking at this hour... Patrick enjoyed his sleep. Just because Pete didn't it didn't mean he had to stay up all night.

"I missed you." Pete says, and like that all of Patrick's hot anger melts away. Patrick shuffles into Pete's arms when he holds them out, burying himself in his warmth. Pete's always like a furnace, the heat to his cold. "It's been a while."

Three months to be exact. Patrick doesn't know what's kept them apart for so long, not when having Pete hold him like this feels so right. "I wish it hadn't been." Patrick whispers, and Pete strokes a hand through his hair. 

"I'm here now."

He doesn't know who does it first, but he knows that they're kissing mere moments later. Pete's got a right hand in his hair and another hand on his jaw, holding him place as Patrick lifts up to kiss him just as desperately as he's being given. It feels so right and Pete's warmth spreads through his body as they kiss, feeling so complete for the first time.

"Fuck." Pete murmurs against his lips, kissing him again before pulling away. "I could just..." He trails off, but Patrick sees the hunger in his eyes, the intense lust and desire and Patrick feels a wave of excitement roll through him as he shudders hard under his gaze, heat blooming through him like he's on fire.

Just Pete's gaze is enough to make his dick harden, and his pajama pants do nothing to hide it. Pete's eyes drop and flick back up again, and Patrick wants it. It's what he's been wanting for so long, ever since he was sixteen and being coerced into singing by Pete, imagining being fucked into oblivion while Pete watched and jabbered on about how Patrick was his golden ticket.

"Do it." Patrick challenges, warmer now even though the blanket has slipped off his shoulders. "I know you want to." 

Pete licks his lips, and Patrick waits. It's five flat seconds before Pete's kissing him again, hand on his back sliding down, down, down until it's dipping into his boxers. Patrick's gasps into his mouth, head tipping back as Pete's cold finger touches his hole. God he wants it, want to be as whole as Pete can make him feel, wants to be his, entirely his. "Make me yours." Patrick whispers, eyes closed as Pete kisses his jaw. 

A desperate noise comes from Pete, and he kisses his neck. His hand moves out of his boxers and Patrick wants to protest, but a moment later his being lifted up by Pete. He wraps his legs around his waist and Pete carries them to Patrick's bed, and Patrick's never felt so alive.

Pete lowers him onto the bed carefully, like he's some porcelain case. It makes him feel loved, and he drags him down for a kiss. "Do you have lube?" Pete asks when they draw apart, entirely breathless and pupils blown. He's so hot, and Patrick decides he's wearing way too much clothing.

"Yeah. Top drawer." Patrick whispers, feeling like if he speaks above a whisper, this will all melt away, like this is some dream or fantasy. He blinks hard but everything stays in place. This is not a dream. This is real and warm and Pete.

Pete pulls off his jacket and then his shirt, tossing them to the ground. He grinds a leg between Patrick's, and Patrick whimpers, denim against soft pajama hurting. Pete pauses and fumbles to take his jeans off, throwing them across the room once they're off. He's in boxers now and Patrick admires the tattoos, how dark they are, and how tan Patrick is against him. Contrasting so beautifully, tan against white, warmth against ice cold. 

Patrick swallows down a moan, biting his lip hard when Pete lightly shapes his dick through his pajama pants, fingers gentle. Pete unties the string like Patrick's a goddamn present, pulling his pajama pants down easily. He hooks a finger in his boxers and gives him a crooked smile, one that makes the fire in Patrick's belly ignite even more. He groans and closes his eyes, dick leaking precum. "What do you want?" Pete whispers, like he too is afraid of this disappearing.

Patrick keeps quiet, swallowing hard. "Tell me." Pete urges quietly, inching his boxers down lightly. 

"I want- I want you to- to fuck me." Patrick gasps out, like air is scarce. " I want you to fill me up and make me complete and make me yours." 

Pete's eyes are full of lust and Patrick shudders at the growl he lets out. "You already are. The moment I laid eyes on you, you were mine." Pete tells him, voice low and husky. Pete pulls down Patrick's boxers completely and tosses them away, chuckling lightly. "So eager, hmm?" 

Patrick nods desperately. "Please." He says, not knowing what he's begging for. "Please." He says, only knowing that he /wants./

He can see when Pete swallows hard. "Okay." He lowers himself and props Patrick's hips up with a pillow, and when Pete kisses the inside of his thigh he jolts, a moan escaping from his mouth. "That's it." Pete encourages, finding his hand with his and threading their fingers together. 

Pete nibbles lightly on the inside of his thigh before moving lower, lifting his hips up more to breath hot across his hole. His dick jerks, and Patrick moans louder than he ever has, unashamed. "Pete," He says, only knowing that his name is all he can say. He's on fire now, all traces of the cold fleeing from his body and from Pete's warm mouth. When Pete traces his tongue across his hole he nearly cums, digging his nails into Pete's hand as he whimpers. 

"You like that, huh?" Pete observes, and does it again and again until Patrick feels dizzy with it. It's not until he presses his tongue in lightly does Patrick wrap a hand around his dick, squeezing tightly to stop himself from coming. 

Pete opens him up with little licks that make Patrick's thighs tremble and his toes curl. He's never felt anything like this, and when Pete slicks up his fingers and presses two inside of him, he feels like he's on his way to heaven. "Yes, yesyesyes." Patrick moans, words slurring at how drunk he feels on this.

Pete opens him like this, alternating between tongue and fingers, lightly exploring him. "I bet no ones ever been here, huh?" Pete asks, dirty words lightly falling from his mouth. "Bet no ones ever touched you here, never fingered your tight little hole." 

His words make Patrick moan, hips arching off the bed. "No one." He gasps out in answer as Pete prods against his prostate. "Only you." 

Pete grins again. "Good. Because you're all mine." It's dark and possessive and it makes something curl deep in Patrick, and the way Pete says it should have Patrick feeling concerned that he's too possessive, but all he is is delirious and drunk on happiness because he entirely Pete's. 

"All yours." He repeats, whining at the loss of Pete's fingers. Pete finally pulls his boxers down and his dick is thick, straining and leaking as steadily as Patrick's. 

Pete slicks himself up and grabs at Patrick, still so gentle despite his possessive words. "I'm so fucking- God, Patrick. Why didn't we do this before?" Pete groans, lining himself up.

He pushes in and Patrick can't answer because he feels something so unlike anything he's ever felt that he nearly cums. "We're idiots." He gasps eventually, and Pete continues pushing in, sliding home.

When Pete's presses in completely, he leans over and kisses Patrick hard. "Tell me when." Pete murmurs, using one hand to spread Patrick's legs wider. Patrick raises them and rests them up on his back, glad now that he's little. He can hear Pete panting and he can see his struggle to not move.

Patrick feels complete, they're so close together, like lock and key and Patrick feels like he's on fire. His entire world is on fire because he is Pete's and Pete is his. 

"Move." He eventually moans out, and Pete pulls back and thrusts in, groaning. "Oh!" 

Pete starts up a rhythm, thrusting long and slow and deep. It's so good in every way, and he keeps the rhythm going until Pete gasps. "I'm close." Pete whispers against his cheek, mouth open and kissing along his jaw messily. "So close."

"Me too." Patrick moans, hand around his dick. He strokes lightly and Pete thrusts faster, rhythm picking up in desperation. "Fuck, fuck!" He cums when he strokes just right as Pete hits his prostate dead on. 

It's so much better than any other orgasm he's ever had, so fulfilling and satisfying that it makes his vision go white at the edges. When he's finished coming Pete's still pressed inside of him, still, but sweating and panting with the effort of it. He hasn't cum, dick still hot and pulsing inside him. 

"Can I?" Pete asks him, and Patrick nods, fighting for air. Pete hikes his legs up higher and thrusts back in, starting up a brutal pace that has Patrick's head hitting the headboard with each thrust. Pete's older, more experienced, needs more to get off. And if it means fucking Patrick like a he's nothing more than a toy to get off, so be it.

Patrick feels overstimulated to hell when Pete finally cums in him, hips stuttering and groaning his name. They kiss again, messy and desperate and Patrick feels like everything's changed.

Pete pulls out gently, chest heaving. "You're so perfect." He says breathlessly, and Patrick's cheeks bloom pink again. "I love you." He says, genuine and true.

Patrick feels hot all over and dizzy with love. "I love you." He feels he has never lived before now, and it's amazing.

They're sticky and Pete just pulls the blankets over them, turning Patrick over and spooning him close, lips pressed to the back of his head. 

Patrick's never felt so warm.

**Author's Note:**

> Leave a comment on why you thought! :)


End file.
